


under the tall oak, we fell in love (you are gone too soon)

by honeybeb



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Closure, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Nature, getting over grief, idk what to tag this man, no beta we die like men, oh yeah also it's like in the 1500s kind of, speedran this fic in like two hours, the fluff is only if you squint, wasteland baby! by hoizer inspired this so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybeb/pseuds/honeybeb
Summary: “George.” He whispers, the name falling from his mouth with the ease of years of repetition.“Why did you have to go so soon, my love?"...or, that in which Dream learns to move on.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 58





	under the tall oak, we fell in love (you are gone too soon)

**Author's Note:**

> i hella speedran this fic so it's kinda short but oh my god the vibes of wasteland, baby! by hoizer are just mm too good and i had to do something with it skldf so pardon any mistakes lsfjkls

Dream steps, one foot in front of the other, and drags his hands along the rough bark of the trees that mark the forest's edge. 

It’s sunny, and warm, maybe a little too much so, but he’s always enjoyed the warmer weather anyways. 

He wanders without any real meaning behind it, but there’s a soft smile on his face as he walks alongside the trees and his thoughts. The wind sings a song of secrecy and asks questions that he’s not too interested in answering, content with the mystery that it brings . 

Over on the left of him, away from the trees and about a mile west, his town stands. In the small town is where responsibilities lie, where his family and his work weighs a heavy burden upon his young shoulders, but out here he’s free of all that. 

Out here, the burdens fall off of his shoulders like beads of dew on the waxy surface of a little leaf on a flowered bush. 

He shifts his worn satchel up as it falls off his shoulder, the leather straps soft under the pads of his fingers. 

He pauses, a strong gust of wind blowing through his sandy hair, and it’s almost like a certain someone’s gentle hand tangling delicate fingers through the soft waves. 

He pauses and closes his eyes, memories soft and melancholy on his lips. 

He sighs and smiles at the air in front of him and continues forwards with his walk. 

He walks until a hill covered in overgrown grass and wildflowers, with an old tree sat upon the top, comes into his line of view. 

He strays from his path along the edge of the forest and walks towards the hill, slowly and calmly as he begins to step up the steep curves of the ground beneath him. 

About halfway up he slows and watches a tall cornflower sway in the wind, bending and moving with the swirling air. 

His hand reaches out, tentatively, as if he was approaching a timid rabbit, then tenderly plucks the flower from where its roots lay in the earth. 

He examines the flower and holds it gingerly in his fingertips, admiring the soft blue of the many petals, then tucks it in his hair and continues up the hill. 

When he finally reaches the top, he sits against the trunk of the tall oak, crossing his legs over each other and letting his bag fall down and off his shoulder. 

Sunlight filters in gently through the slight gaps in between the leaves and branches of the tree and he squints his eyes, adjusting his seating so that the light doesn’t hit his face directly. 

He rolls his shoulders then scoots back a little so that his back presses against the trunk of the tree. 

The satchel sits in his lap now, and he runs his thumb over the brass buckles, and the metal is smooth from years of this action being repeated over and over again. 

Not by him though, this was something he picked up a bit more recently. 

He pulls the straps through and undoes the buckles, opening the leather bag.

Inside the satchel is mostly empty, save for a few pieces of paper, an old embroidered handkerchief, a ring, and a journal. 

His hand reaches inside and pulls out the journal, pushing the satchel out of his lap and flipping through the pages of the journal. 

The journal is full, the pages filled and dog eared throughout, and he reads over a few pages. 

The pages tell stories of a simple life, of days working quietly in a library visited by few, and of a years-long love that blossoms from nothing into everything over the course of an entire lifetime. 

He chuckles softly at some of the pages, remembering the events that spurred the messy, passionate words on the pages. 

He sits there for a while, simply savoring the words written in messy ink and smudged across the page. 

When he finally closes the journal and ties the piece of string around it, he looks to his left, where an emptiness sits beside him and opens his mouth to speak. 

“You probably find this a bit silly darling, don’t you?” 

He says, a smile in his voice. 

“To be fair, so do I.”

There is only him under the canopy of the tree, but he continues. 

“But, you know, I have always had a penchant for the dramatic.” 

He pauses then pulls the blue flower from where it sits tucked behind his ear, and places it next to him on the ground. 

“These ones are your favorite, right?” 

There’s no response and yet the smile on his face stays. 

“They always remind me of you. Remember that time you braided them into my hair?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his hair, which now only barely goes past his ears. 

“It was such a shame when I had to cut it.” 

He stares at where the flower lays on the ground. 

“I read your journal.” He says, almost embarrassed to admit it. “I hope you don’t mind. I just found it lying around in our room and thought it might make a nice addition to today’s trip.” 

He fiddles with a silver ring on his left hand, rubbing his thumb over the detailing curled around the metal band. 

“I didn’t know you thought so highly of me, my dear.” He laughs softly under his breath. 

The wind blows in his ears and songbirds chirp somewhere in the distance. 

It’s all so loud, and yet the silence is deafening and rings in his ears. 

“George.” He whispers, the name falling from his mouth with the ease of years of repetition. 

“Why did you have to go so soon, my love?” 

He wishes a response would come. 

“Too early, my dear.” 

The pain in his chest is growing hard to ignore. 

“A month and half ago as of today.” 

He laughs, and it sounds too sweet and too soft for the context of it all. 

“It feels like eternity without you.” 

The sun warms his tanned skin and kisses the freckles on his neck and arms. 

He closes his eyes and places a hand on the ground next to him. 

If he focuses on the warmth of the sun hard enough, it almost feels like the warmth of his hand pressed against his, almost like the feeling of soft skin against his once again. 

“You would not want to see me like this darling. I’m afraid I’ve disappointed you.” 

He opens his eyes again and picks up the flower, bringing it to his lap and spinning it in his fingers. 

“Do you remember when we came here first? We must’ve been around 16 at that time.” 

A melancholy smile tugs at the corners of his mouth at the memories of teenage naivety and kisses high in the branches of the old oak, where no one could find them. 

“It seems a world away from now, dear.” 

He leans over and fishes out the ring from the bottom of the satchel. Of George’s satchel. 

He lays it flat in his palm, letting the sun reflect off of it and highlight the curves.

Slipping off his own matching ring, he lets the two bands sit there in his hand, palm cupped gently around them. 

“Do you miss me, my love?” 

His head turns to look at George’s spot.

“Well that’s a bit rude, isn’t it. Not even bothering to answer.” He shakes his head and quietly laughs. 

His laugh quiets and there is silence. 

“I miss you.” 

“You know, I can’t even bring myself to visit where you really rest.” 

He runs his empty hand along the bumps of a tree root raised above the ground. 

“I think you would have preferred to be here.” 

“The graveyard is cold.” He pauses. “It’s nice here. Warm, just like you like it.” 

The rings still sit in his hand, now warm from the heat of his hand and the sun. 

He closes his fist around them tight, then relaxes, if only just a bit. 

Taking a deep breath in, he lets the sweet smell of flowers and springtime fill his lungs. 

As he stands his heavy heart threatens to pull him back down to the ground again. 

He doesn’t let it. 

Instead, he turns and looks up at the tree, eyes moving down from the top to the trunk in front of him. 

He raises his free hand and traces over the silly faded carving in the bark. 

_“Forever and Always, My Love - G”_

_“The Sun to My Stars, My Everything - D”_

His fingers touch the bark lightly, the words silently moving out of his mouth, and his lips form the shapes of the syllables but no sound escapes. 

And there is nothing he can do to stop the salty tears flowing down his face as he raises his hand and places the two rings in a shallow hole in the tree. 

His chest heaves and he stands there crying for far too long of a time. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He bends down and picks up the cornflower, tucking it behind his ear once more. 

“I love you.” 

He puts the journal back in George’s satchel and slings it over his shoulder once more. 

“Goodbye, my love.” 

“My sun. My everything.” 

He presses a gentle kiss to the bark of the tree and steps back.

Every step he takes hurts a little more, and yet his tears start to slow as he begins his descent down the hill. 

And somewhere in the forest, the wind whispers. 

_“I love you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda feel like this is a little different from other stuff i've written, but i quite like this!!  
> i hope yall aren't too sad now sndflk but hey i love angst  
> check out my [ twitter! ](https://twitter.com/honey_beb_) for fic updates and other stuff like that if you liked this!!  
> comments and kudos are hella poggers :D


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